


riding (mile) high

by sky_reid



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Airplane Sex, Airplanes, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Bathroom Sex, Clothed Sex, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, M/M, Mile High Club, Mirror Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Quickies, Semi-Public Sex, but imagine it here, happy lairport anniversary y'all, harry gets off on the idea of sb finding them so i suppose, no comeplay??? shocking, someone help me this is getting out of hand, this is the third punny title in a row, to some extent, you can't add the shruggie in these tags bc of the special characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-18 14:30:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5931781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_reid/pseuds/sky_reid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the flight is boring, louis is restless and harry indulges.</p>
            </blockquote>





	riding (mile) high

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alwaysastonished](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwaysastonished/gifts).



> i should be writing something else but quickies in the airplane bathroom are distracting
> 
> this is shorter and less polished than usual bc it too is a quickie, but here's hoping it's satisfactory
> 
> actually kinkier than i expected it to be and toes the line of dom!louis/sub!harry a few times though it doesn't really go there
> 
> shout out to leah and susi for helping me out on this one and kudos to dani for finishing all her exams for now :)

Harry narrowly avoids hitting his head on the mirrored cabinet when Louis pushes him back against the sink. It’s high enough that he’d need to jump or be lifted onto it, something that's not going to happen with Louis gripping his hips tightly; he feels unbalanced, standing up on his toes and only half leaning on the sink behind him, held up almost entirely by Louis’ hands. “What’s with you today?” he asks when Louis presses up against him, their legs slotting together naturally. Louis just grins and kisses him. His beard is scratchy and his cock is hard where it rests against Harry’s thigh. He doesn’t bother with much build-up, licking at the seam of Harry’s lips the moment they’re close enough to be sharing the same breath. He tastes of mint and chocolate from the sweets they shared earlier.

“Tell me you’ve got lube,” he says, crowding Harry further backwards and groping at his arse, unbalancing him further. He has to wrap his legs around Louis' waist and rely on him to stay upright. He feels the flex of muscles in Louis' shoulders and back when he's easily lifted onto the sink. His cock perks up in his jeans.

He pulls back just enough to look at Louis properly, biting at Louis' bottom lip and tugging it as he does. He tilts his head and smirks. "Always got lube."

Louis grins. “Figured,” he says. He looks almost fond at the idea that Harry is always prepared for sex. Harry wonders what that says about them as a couple. He hooks his fingers in Louis' tee and pulls him close for another kiss that ends quickly because he's smiling too much. "What?" Louis asks.

“If we can't get high, might as well make it _mile_ high, right?”

Louis sighs. "That would _almost_ be funny if we hadn't already done it on a plane, babe," he says.

Harry rolls his eyes and shoves him away so he can hop off the sink. He turns around, bending forward slightly at the waist, mindful of the cabinet in front of him this time. He leans onto the sink with one hand, undoes his belt with the other. The buckle of it hits the sink with a loud clank. For a few seconds, Harry thinks his heart actually stops. He looks at the door almost fearfully as if he might've somehow missed someone walking in. The immediate rush of relief at seeing it still closed and locked quickly followed by a pang of disappointment sends his heart speeding and his cock hardening. "Wallet in my back right pocket," he says, words blurring together as they tumble out of his mouth quickly. "Get a condom too, I'm not spending the next ten hours with my arse full of your come."

"Not like you haven't done it before," Louis mumbles in reply. He gives Harry's bum a squeeze after fishing out his wallet.

Harry shoves his jeans and pants down to mid-thigh, doesn't bother doing more than exposing his arse to Louis; they don't have the time for much and frankly, he doesn't have the patience for it either. He wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and gives it a few tight pulls until he's fully hard. He pulls the foreskin all the way over the head before he twists his palm around it, avoiding touching it directly before he starts getting wet. He tightens his fist as he strokes down his cock and watches the head get revealed when he pulls the foreskin back. He looks up, finds Louis already looking at him in the mirror.

Louis raises his eyebrows. "Three condoms, H, really? That's a bit optimistic even for you."

"Clearly. You're not even gonna get to use _one_ if you don't hurry up," Harry replies. He bends over further, wiggles his hips exaggeratedly as he inches backwards and presses against Louis' still clothed crotch. He feels Louis' cock twitching under the worn cotton of his trackies and tightens his hold on himself. "C'mon, Lou," he says. "Fuck me."

Louis lifts his shirt and holds it bunched up and under his armpits. He throws the wallet onto the sink and leaves the condom on top of it. "You sure you want me to hurry up? I know you like scandalising innocent passers-by."

Harry suppresses a shiver at the memories of Louis whispering dirty things in his ear while he bit back whimpers and moans as he watched people walk by on the other side of countless curtains and unlocked doors that were barely any barrier at all between them and the rest of the world. A droplet of precome pearls at the slit of his cock and he spreads it out around the head with his thumb before going back to stroking the shaft. "If you count Zayn or Niall or Nick as innocent, I guess," he manages. In the mirror he watches Louis rip open a packet of lube with his teeth and spit the foil into the toilet. He gasps at the feeling of cold lube dripping down between his arsecheeks when Louis upends the packet over his tailbone.

"I could've gone my whole life without Paul Higgins seeing me choke on your dick," Louis says almost absently as he gathers the lube on two fingers and rubs it up and down over Harry's crack, warming it. He presses down behind Harry's balls with two fingers while prodding at his hole with his thumb.

"I'm sure he agrees," Harry groans. He folds his arm on the side of the sink and rests his head on his forearm, thrusting his arse out further. "You could've also waited more than two minutes after leaving the stage to get on your knees."

"There was also that time when Simon--"

"Please, _please_ , shut up."

Louis just laughs. He lets his thumb slip in to the first knuckle. Though he expects it, the steady pressure makes Harry's knees buckle. Louis' hold on his shirt is what keeps him up; he thinks he hears the material rip, but Louis pushes the finger all the way inside him, grazing his prostate, and he forgets about it. He steadies himself and moves back against Louis instead.

"Alright?" Louis asks, pressing his finger down.

Harry bites his bottom lip to stifle a moan. He feels the slight burn and pull on his rim as Louis lets his thumb pop out and tucks the tip of it back inside a few times. "Yeah, yeah, go on, get it in already," he mumbles.

"With all the sex we've had, one would think you'd know how it works by now," Louis teases. He circles Harry's rim, stretches it out before removing his thumb and replacing it with two fingers. The first push inside is slow, persistent and steady even when Harry tightens up instinctively only relaxing with the next breath. He grunts when Louis' fingers pop past his rim, clenches his teeth to keep anything louder behind. He has a few seconds to adjust and then Louis starts up a quick rhythm, a simple in and out that isn't meant to make Harry's cock harder, but still somehow does. He tries to match the speed of his strokes to Louis' sharp thrusts into him; it doesn't take long before he loses himself to the feeling though, before he becomes too focused on how his body gives and adjusts to accommodate every twist and pull.

He keeps his eyes closed, breathes forcefully through his nose in an attempt to stay quiet. His fingers stay loosely curled around his cock, thumb circling the head absently and spreading the wetness around. The air is starting to feel hot and humid, though that might be due to how he's mostly breathing into his own arm. He lifts his head and looks in the mirror; Louis is staring down at what he's doing, brows drawn together and a flush creeping from his cheeks down his neck. His hairline is damp with sweat and he licks his lips while Harry watches. " _Fuck me_ ," Harry demands before letting his head fall back down. He spreads his legs as wide as he can with his jeans still caught around his thighs and arches his back. Louis doesn't ask this time, just adds a third finger on the next stroke in without even slowing down. "I'm ready, come _on_ ," Harry whines. He pushes back, meets Louis' fingers thrust for thrust. His fist tightens around his cock and he has to give it a couple of strokes when he hears voices on the other side of the door.

Louis' fingers still deep inside him as the women get closer. Harry feels his heart speed up. He lifts his head and looks at Louis in the mirror. He can't make out the words, possibly because he's beginning to feel light-headed from holding his breath as if  _that_ might be what gives them away, but it sounds like two flight attendants heading in the direction of the cabin. Louis grins at him in the mirror just as the voices are starting to fade and curls his fingers, finding Harry's spot with practiced ease.

" _Fuck_ ," Harry yelps loudly before he can stop himself. There's a moment when all he knows is how good it feels and then his heart skips a few beats when he realises he can no longer hear voices outside.

Louis pulls him up by his shirt. He presses his fingers down and rubs around in slow circles. "Careful. Do you  _want_ them to hear you?" he asks, breathing directly into Harry's ear. Harry sees himself in the mirror, the way his eyes glaze over and his lips part and how the artificial light catches on the sweat beading on his forehead. He looks down to where precome is bubbling at the tip of his cock, leaking over his fingers. He strokes himself in the rhythm of Louis' fingers. "You do, don't you? Want them to know that you're in here begging for my cock?"

" _Please_ ," Harry whispers. He breathes through his nose and bites his lip, trying to prevent any more sounds escaping. He watches the flush spread down his neck and chest where his shirt hangs open. There are still reddish marks on his skin where his jeans dug into his hips.

Louis kisses the side of his neck, eyes still trained on the mirror. "There we go. Knew you wanted it enough to ask nicely." He circles Harry's prostate with his fingers a few more times before pulling them out and wiping them on Harry's arse. He lets Harry go, grabs the condom from the sink and opens it with his teeth when his fingers are too slippery to rip the foil.

"Shouldn't do it like that," Harry says breathlessly. "Might tear it." He leans heavily onto the sink with both hands, lets his head drop forward and waits. The lube is tacky on his skin and his hole keeps twitching, feels open and like it's missing something. He rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck while Louis rolls the condom on. His shirt has fallen down, billowing around his hips, the worn material tickling over his upper thighs and brushing over the head of his cock. Louis lifts it up enough to expose his arse, bunching it at the centre of Harry's back when he puts a hand there to steady himself while he lines up the covered head of his cock with Harry's hole.

"Shut up," he says, pulling Harry up so their eyes meet in the mirror, "and _watch_."

Harry does, keeps his eyes on the image in the mirror. He sees himself give a full-bodied shiver when Louis bottoms out in one smooth thrust, sees Louis' eyelashes flutter at the feeling, sees his own face screw up in pleasure when he's suddenly filled. He grunts through his nose and grips the sides of the sink so hard his knuckles turn white. He watches as Louis' fingers fold up the tails of his shirt and pull them apart until the button pops and pings against the wall. Louis' hands grasp his hips tightly, thumbs keeping his shirt up and spread far enough that his cock stands up between his legs, framed almost perfectly by the laurels and flushed dark so it contrasts the pale skin of his belly.

Louis holds him steady as he pulls out almost all the way and fucks back in roughly. He doesn't break eye contact through the mirror even when he starts up a steady rhythm of thrusts deep enough that they make Harry's whole body jolt forward every time. His fingers sink into the softness of Harry's hips until they're making little valleys for themselves in the soft flesh. He's not kissing Harry's neck anymore, but his nose is pressed to the back of Harry's neck, buried in his hair, and his damp breaths make shivers run down Harry's spine.

Harry lets go of the sink so he can tweak one of his nipples through his shirt. He stumbles forward when Louis fucks in, ends up with his thighs pressed hard into the cold edge and his forehead resting against the mirror. He tries to keep looking, but the glass fogs up with his pants immediately so he focuses on watching himself instead. The part of his chest visible where his shirt is unbuttoned is flushed and shiny with sweat and his nipples are visibly hard. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip, quieting the little  _oh oh oh_ 's that are starting to slip out with every push of Louis' cock into him. He undoes another button on his shirt and slips his hand underneath, pinching a nipple and twisting it; he lets out a whimper that he covers up by shoving two fingers of his now free hand in his mouth. His cock bobs with Louis' thrusts. Precome drips from the tip, gathering on the side of the sink and slowly sliding down.

"Shit, I'm not gonna last," Louis says, fucking all the way in and rolling his hips. He bites Harry's shoulder when Harry moans too loudly even with his mouth full.

Harry pulls his fingers out enough to reply, "For once, that's a good thing," before sucking them back inside. He presses down on the back of his tongue to feel his gag reflex kick in. He associates the feeling so strongly with sex at this point that his cock jumps at it.

Louis grinds against his arse. "Never complained before," he says. He moves one hand to Harry's lower belly, knuckles grazing his cock before he presses down. The next time he rolls his hips, Harry swear he feels it all over; he barely suppresses the moan. Louis keeps the pressure up as he switches to quick, short thrusts, barely pulling out at all before he fucks back inside. He's drooling over Harry's shirt, heedless of the fabric when he bites down.

Harry doesn't have the strength or balance to keep up with how hard Louis is fucking him, doesn't even bother trying to respond; he takes his fingers out, wraps them around his cock and lets Louis' thrusts rock him forward so he pushes into his fist. With his mouth free and open, a few whimpers slip out before he can stop them; he feels almost literally like he's choking on his own noises when he forces himself to hold them back. He reaches back, gets his hand on Louis' head and tangles his fingers in Louis' hair. It's getting long enough now that the strands of it curl around Harry's fingers and he has enough to get a good tug in if he wants to. He doesn't have to try; Louis' every move still rocks him gently forward, makes him feel almost like a doll in Louis' hands, unable to control his own body. He tilts his head back and pulls Louis' face to himself, kisses him blindly despite the awkward angle; he mostly ends up licking at the corner of Louis' lips. He looks sideways at the mirror just in time to see their tongues meet when Louis kisses him back, not even bothering to try to seal their lips together first. Harry watches, weirdly mesmerised, as a drop of spit falls down from his lips to the collar of his shirt. Somehow the fact that they're both still dressed makes it seem even more obscene, like they were too desperate to wait long enough to properly take off their clothes. Which, Harry figures, is not that far from the truth most of the time.

The turbulence that shakes the plane around them catches him by surprise. He tips forward, overbalances and has to hold himself up with both hands on the mirror when Louis slams bodily into him from behind. He hopes the commotion on the other side of the door is enough to cover up his surprised moan when Louis' cock is shoved deeper inside him. Louis gasps behind him and holds him tightly around the waist as if trying to bring him even closer. He presses his face between Harry's shoulderblades and gives a few more quick thrusts before stilling with a grunt, his hands fisting Harry's shirt and tugging on the fabric. This time, Harry definitely hears the fabric rip. His head shoots up and he faces the mirror again; he can only see the top of Louis' head like this, half hidden behind the wild mess that his hair has become. He's flushed and wild-eyed, his lips bitten red and slick with spit.

"Did you just...?" he asks. It takes him a moment to register that Louis is shaking behind him and then another to identify the sound of it as laughter.

Louis looks up. His eyes are crinkled in the corners, the blue of them almost hidden. "Guess I can finally say--" He breaks off into giggles again. His cock is still twitching inside Harry, but he seems too preoccupied to do anything about it. "Guess I can finally say you rocked my world." The bark of laughter that bubbles out of Harry's chest is loud and startling even to him. Louis covers his mouth with one hand and shushes him though he can't seem to stop laughing either. He's still holding Harry close, sending subtle thrills of pleasure up his spine at random from how his whole body is shaking with suppressed giggles. He wraps his fingers around Harry's cock loosely, hides his smile in Harry's shoulder and gives him a few gentle strokes, waiting for their laughter to die down.

The knock on the door makes them both freeze. Louis presses his hand harder against Harry's mouth as if in warning. "Just a second!" he shouts at the door.

"Oh, sorry!" comes the muffled reply. Harry can barely hear it over the thud of his own heart and the rush of blood in his ears. He only lets out the breath he's holding when the footsteps fade away. When he breathes in it feels like more than just oxygen filling his lungs, feels like the sudden rush of taking a hit, the high of earning being called  _good._ He mouths at Louis' palm to stifle the noises and fucks into his hand.

Louis nips at his earlobe. "You liked that, didn't you? Almost getting caught?" he asks. He tightens his fist and starts stroking Harry's cock with a tight grip. "Think she knows what we're doing? She must, the whole plane probably does." He rolls his hips, grinding his still mostly hard cock deeper. 

Harry shivers at the thought, knowing that even if by some miracle no one's realised it yet, they'll see it on him the moment he steps out; they'll know exactly how easy he is for Louis any time, any place. His nails make a disturbing sound when he scratches them down the mirror. He reaches down, laces his fingers with Louis' on his cock and speeds up their rhythm. Louis swipes his thumb over the head of his cock, pressing down at the slit roughly.

"It's killing you that you can't be loud, isn't it, love? You  _wish_ they could hear you, wish they knew how good you are at taking me," he says. 

"Lou," Harry whines. He rests his head on Louis' shoulder, lets Louis hold him up and set the pace; he can feel the pressure building in his lower belly, the heat spreading through his body, the quick thumps of his heart. His legs are shaky and weak, but he trusts Louis to keep him standing. Through the blur of his eyelashes he catches sight of himself in the mirror; for a split second it feels like everything stops and then he's arching his back and coming, moaning loudly into Louis' hand and spurting onto the mirror and the wall. He closes his eyes and relaxes into Louis, struggling to breathe through his nose while he shakes with each wave of pleasure. He blinks his eyes open slowly when he feels it taper off only to watch Louis fist his cock one last time, milking a few more drops of come out of him and sending a series of aftershocks through him.

"Fucking beautiful," Louis whispers, shaping the words out against Harry's neck. He moves his hand to Harry's jaw and tilts his head so they're looking at each other in the mirror. "Alright?" he checks. "Breathing okay?" Harry just nods mutely, too loopy and sex-stupid to talk. He shivers visibly with another aftershock; he looks almost high when he smiles dopily at his own image in the mirror. He can't take his eyes off the slow glide of his own come down the previously pristine surface. Louis shakes his head. He probably has to come up on his toes, but he kisses Harry's cheek gently before patting his hip. "Come on, love," he says. "I know you like a good cuddle after, but this isn't really the time." He hisses when he pulls out and removes the condom, tying it off and quickly wrapping it in a few sheets of toilet paper before throwing it into the rubbish bin in the corner. The empty packages follow suit.

Harry shakes his head to clear it. "That's disgusting, someone's gonna have to clean that up," he says, voice deeper and rougher than usually. He coughs, trying to get rid of the scratch in his throat.

"Can't really take it out, can I?" Louis replies. "Besides, I feel like the come on the mirror is a more pressing issue," he adds with a laugh. He grabs a paper towel, wets it under the tap and nudges Harry out of the way to start cleaning up.

Harry makes a face when he hears the squelch of lube and feels how slippery his skin is. "There's lube in my arse," he complains.

"That's what usually happens when you wanna put other things in there, babe."

"Alright,  _ew_ , how old are you," Harry says over Louis' snickering. He wipes his hands and between his cheeks with some toilet paper before pulling his jeans up. They're damp with water in a few places and he's pretty sure it's come that smears over his hand when he grabs for his wallet. His shirt when he tries to straighten it out is a complete mess, wrinkled and missing a button and with tears that weren't there when he boarded the plane. He picks at the threads around them. "I can't believe you actually ripped my shirt."

Louis throws the dirty paper towel into the toilet and flushes it. "I'll buy you a new one," he promises with a wink. "I think that's as clean as we're gonna get it. I mean, It stinks in here, but it's not like I can open a window."

Harry snorts. "Scoot over, I need to wash my hands," he says as he hip-checks Louis to make space for himself in front of the sink. Their hands and elbows bump while they wash up; if the bathroom weren't so cramped and the floor weren't shaking slightly, it'd almost feel domestic. Harry splashes some cold water on his face to cool down. When he stands back up and faces the mirror, Louis is already waiting, smirking and looking smug. "What are you grinning about?"

"You look like you just got fucked."

"I _did_. Is that what you want to hear? That you gave it to me so good everyone's gonna see?" Louis's smirk gets even wider. Harry shakes his head. "You're just as bad as I am," he teases. Louis shrugs. He squeezes Harry's arse as he heads for the door. His shirt rides up in the back, revealing a thin sliver of skin above where his waistband sits low on his hips. Harry grabs at his waist and pulls him back before he can open the door. Louis' arse ends up pressed against his crotch. He cups a hand over Louis' soft cock. " _Louis._  Are you not wearing pants?" He sees the corner of Louis' mouth twitch.

"It's a long flight, I wanna be comfortable," Louis says in a mostly steady voice.

Harry groans. He rests his forehead on Louis' shoulder and grinds against his arse. "I fucking hate you," he mumbles.

Louis wriggles his hips. "You do still have two unused condoms."

Harry ushers him out of the bathroom.

**Author's Note:**

> find me [on tumblr](http://captivekinqs.tumblr.com)


End file.
